memories replaying in my head
by hollyhobbit101
Summary: Sam's room is cold when they get back that night. Lucifer cold. Tag to 13x11, Breakdown


**A/N: Wow wow wow I loved this episode so much. Not as much as episode 12, but holy crap it was amazing. I hope I can do it justice. Title from Strangers by Halsey**

 **WARNING for some graphic descriptions and reference to Sam's cage trauma**

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Sam's room is cold when he gets back. It's the sort of cold that permeates deep beneath his bones; the sort that keeps him up at night with memories flying round his head. Lucifer cold. He shivers and lays down on the bed, pulling his flannel closer around him as he curls in on himself. His chest feels tight, like the restraints never left _(feel that sam? nice and tight)_ even though it's been hours since Dean saved him _(no escape for you sammy)_ from Clegg.

He could have told Clegg that he already knows what having his heart carved out of his chest feels like. It's somewhere in between having every single bone in his body broken one by one _(no crying out sam. i'll make it hurt more if you do)_ and his skin being slowly peeled off on Sam's pain scale. At least, it is with the way Lucifer does it. He likes to take his time, likes to open up Sam's chest with delicate little knives, as if Sam is something to be dissected and studied. Pushes his hand between the folds of Sam's skin, extends icy fingers through his ribs and carefully caresses his wildly beating heart _(that's a strong heart you've got there sam)_ before squeezing it until Sam's got tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He pulls it out slowly, letting Sam feel every scrape of Lucifer's nails, and when it's done Sam still isn't dead because _(it's just you and me forever)_ Lucifer won't let him fade away.

Sam hears cruel laughter coming from the doorway, but he doesn't bother to look over. He knows what he'll see. Lucifer's been an almost constant presence in his life from the minute his wall came crashing down, although he's been gone for a while. Sam thinks maybe it's because of his _plan_ to help Jack and save Mom and stop Dean from spiralling any further into his pit. 'Course, that fell apart _(i think this is the best look on you, sam, all fallen apart)_ and Sam can't do anything to stop this crushing helplessness that's settled over him.

This job... Sam tries to convince himself that they're doing good in this world, because that's the only way he's been able to keep going. But as he lies there, he remembers what Clegg said about his market keeping all the monsters at bay. Sam is glad that they shut him down, because he's been where those people were, having his limbs slowly chopped off, feeling the agony of every second _(you deserve this)_ , every nerve in his body on fire. Dismemberment was one of Lucifer's tamer tortures, he recalls, only used when he was feeling particularly uncreative _(the classics never get old, eh sam?)_.

So.

He's relieved that they saved Wendy and killed Clegg, but, if what he said is true, then they've set hundreds of thousands more monsters loose on the world. And they can't stop them all. Half the planet would have to become hunters to even have a hope of stopping them all, and yet Sam can't help but regret ever telling Doug about monsters, however necessary it was at the time. Truth be told, he envies Doug for being able to say no to the hunting life. Part of him wishes that he'd had that courage back at Stanford, wishes he'd been able to tell Dean that he couldn't do it. That part of him is very small now, beaten down by Dean and Dad and Lucifer and himself most of all, but it exists, still.

Dean thought he was being harsh, when he said what he said to Donna. But Sam's just tired. He's seen this play out too many time over - with Jessica, Madison, Sarah, Eileen, hell, even Cas and Dean _(you roughed your brother up good, he's gonna wear those bruises for a while)_ \- they all paid for being too close to him, and Sam won't let it happen again. And if that means dealing out a few hard truths, well, that's just how it is.

Sam stays in bed the next morning, ignores Dean knocking on his door and demanding Sam come out - _come on, Sam, quit moping and come eat something_ \- because he just can't. He can't deal with Dean today, or with the fact that Mom and Jack are still stuck and he can't help them. His room is still cold, but it's the only place he can escape from everything _(you sure about that, bunk buddy?)_ so he stares at the ceiling and pretends not to see the flames flickering across his vision.

(The tightness in his chest doesn't go away)

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 **A/N: Ehhhhh this feels weird. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it all the same! Please leave a review if you have a moment. Bye!**


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